Let it be known, the boy is FIVE (and where did the time go?)

He's five.  I can't get over it.  And he won't let me get over it, because he makes sure he tells every single human being we come in contact with.  "I'm Finn and I'm five" (flash five fingers).   I'm clearly having trouble reconciling the independent five year old with the feisty little bundle I think of him as (still).